It's still stormy

On Wednesday I rode to my favourite large park and enjoyed some time on my own. I read a book, but then words of my own started breaking into my concentration. So I stopped and put the book down and started to put my own words down. I "wrote" on my little phone screen, so poetry seemed easier than prose. Or maybe it's just lazy prose...

This was part of my view on Wednesday while
I wrote.

What's below is an edited version of what came out in the park.

It's still stormy

Same storm different boat
It's a phrase people are using
About these strange pandemic months.

It makes sense.
Most of us have been stuck at home
Doing things differently to usual
Spending more time with some
And less time with others

But each one has a different household
A different set of griefs, of longings.

I've lost solitude.
I've gained more time with some of my family.
I've lost time with friends.
I've gained space in my schedule to rest.
I've lost a summer visit from a loved one.
I've lost precious farewells with friends.
I've lost more than I've gained.

Every morning I cast myself

In the arms of the God who bears our daily burdens

Lately that’s felt more important than usual
Maybe that will be what I've gained when the storm is over.

Life is usually full of ups and downs

This year they’ve been more intense 

More unpredictable 

More universal 

It’s been odd to go through a global disaster

To experience the same storm here as everyone else

Yet our boats are all different

My boat has two teenage boys and husband

My boat has a tiny backyard, but a beautiful tree

My boat affords little solitude, but it's safe

My emotions have crashed around

From gratitude to grief

From relief to fear

From joy to lethargy

I’ve bounced between 

Action and resignation

Energy and boredom

Feeling free and struggling against confinement

I’ve been disappointed

By myself

And by others

But I’ve also been surprised

By unexpected blessings

I long for things that will never be regained:

time, goodbyes, opportunities.

And some that will be regained, but will take time:

freedom to travel, to go outside without my face covered.
For a life free from the fear of other people's germs.

Same storm. Different boat.
I long to be through the storm.
To be reflecting on this from a distance.
But the clouds haven't cleared yet.

So I'll continue to daily
Cast my burdens on the Lord
The one who promised rest for our souls.